Which had been fine, more or less, until she’d glimpsed the pain, quickly veiled, in Gloriana’s eyes when they’d first walked into the room. Despite their estrangement, she was still the cousin who’d once been her dearest friend. Best not to think about it. They would never be friends again.
Meanwhile Mrs. Henderson sat rigid with disapproval, while her silly daughter couldn’t take her eyes off Daisy.
Fortunately, the butler arrived with the tea tray. “Ah, thank you, Reams,” Lady Garrison said. “Tell Mrs. Reams to prepare bedchambers for Miss Daisy and Sir Julian.” She turned to them with a smile. “You do intend to stay a good while, I hope?”
Gloriana shot to her feet, and the Henderson women both gasped.
Lady Garrison ignored them. “We’ll be having other guests soon. Just a small party, but it will be great fun. Do say you’ll join us.”
“Melinda!” Gloriana cried. “Think before you act. Remember who else is invited!”
“I am well aware of that,” Lady Garrison said. “Family always comes first.”
Gloriana clenched her fists, her breath coming quickly and fast. “Am I not family?”
Lady Garrison gave her a blistering glare. “Perhaps you should ask yourself that question.” She smiled inquiringly at Daisy and Julian.
Daisy tried frantically to decide what to say. She didn’t want to embarrass Lady Garrison and her guests. Truth to tell, she didn’t want to upset Gloriana either, but her very existence did that.
“Most kind of you,” Julian said. “We should love to stay. Isn’t that so, my darling?”
Daisy attempted a smile. “Yes, of course. We’d be delighted.”
“Wonderful. Reams, ask Mrs. Reams to put Daisy in the Rose Room,” Lady Garrison said, “and Sir Julian wherever she thinks best.”
The butler bowed and left.
Daisy bit her lip at this unexpected consideration. The Rose Room was near the family’s bedchambers. Lady Garrison could easily have relegated her to a garret. Perhaps she truly was as kindhearted as she seemed.
Or maybe she just didn’t want to displease her husband. From what Daisy remembered of Miles Garrison, he could be mighty unpleasant when crossed.
She glanced at Gloriana and wished she hadn’t. Her cousin stared back, wringing her hands, then crossing her fingers again and again. Which guests did Gloriana so desperately fear offending? Usually she considered the Warrens to be so far above everyone that no one else mattered. As for that other comment of Lady Garrison’s, why wouldn’t Gloriana consider herself family?
“I beg your pardon, Melinda,” Gloriana said, “but I find that I cannot stay.” She snatched up her reticule. When she reached Daisy, she shook those furiously crossed fingers in her face, and then stalked out.
Calmly, as if nothing untoward had happened, Lady Garrison poured for everyone and roped Sir Julian into passing the cups and cake. Daisy tried to distance herself from Gloriana’s fury, for she could do absolutely nothing about it, and instead pondered what to say if she found herself obliged to answer Lady Garrison’s question about how she’d come to love Sir Julian.
Why had he spouted that nonsense about love at first sight? She’d had no choice but to temper it with reality, so he could easily protest afterward that he’d been stricken by temporary madness.
No one would believe she’d fallen in love with him. She’d agreed to feign contentment. She should claim she was marrying him for purely mercenary reasons—money, status, acceptance, and so on. That was precisely what people would assume anyway.
Even better, she could appear somewhat unsure about marrying him, for that would help prepare for the inevitable rupture without insulting anyone.
Daisy took a deep breath. She refused to let Gloriana’s anger upset her, nor the inevitable gloating when the engagement was broken. Why not enjoy what she could of this situation? The tea was first-rate Bohea, the rock buns superb . . . Oh!
“Lady Garrison, could you prevail upon your cook to give me her recipe for rock buns?” she blurted.
“I expect I could,” Melinda said. “They’re good, aren’t they?”
“They’re the best I’ve ever tasted. Better still, would she let me watch her make them, and take notes?”
That brought on another duo of gasps from the Hendersons.
“I’m writing a cookery book, you see, and I make a point of trying every recipe myself.”
That startled Mrs. Henderson into speech. “You bake them yourself? In a kitchen?”
“Yes, at the inn. Where else? One doesn’t make rock buns in a bedchamber.”
Melinda laughed. “That must be fun. When I was a child, our cook would let me roll the pastry. I loved it, but my nurse got annoyed when I got flour all over my clothes. Rebecca likes baking, too. She made some adorably lopsided drop cakes last week.”
At the mention of Miles’s illegitimate daughter, a spasm of disapproval crossed Mrs. Henderson’s face. Daisy found herself wondering how Gloriana had even brought herself to cross the threshold of Garrison House. It was bad enough that Miles had fathered a bastard, but she probably believed such a child should be fostered out.
“I’ll take you to meet Rebecca when I go upstairs to nurse the baby.” Melinda led the conversation to other topics, and Daisy found she could take part without too much difficulty. With such an openhearted hostess, how could she help it?
Until Lady Garrison asked that pesky question again. “You never answered me,” she said with a twinkle. “How did you fall in love with Sir Julian?”
“As he said, he’s a persistent man,” Daisy replied. “He refused to take no for an answer.”
Mrs. Henderson wrinkled her noise in disbelief and disdain, just as Daisy had anticipated.
“Perhaps, but not all persistent suitors are successful, as I can attest by bitter experience,” Lady Garrison said. “If you’d met Lord Bottleford . . .”
Sir Julian snorted. “Everyone should be spared that.”
Her ladyship grinned. “He finally found someone addlepated enough to put up with him. But I digress again. Tell us, Daisy dear.”
Usually Daisy had a dozen stories running through her head. Right now, it was a complete blank.
“Daisy was strolling through some ruins,” Sir Julian said, “on a grim and gloomy afternoon, when she was stricken by a blinding vision of male pulchritude. Drawn by an irresistible force, she returned to the inn and found me there awaiting her.”
That was straight from The Lady’s Ruin, at least the bit about the heroine spying a handsome man in the ruins. Daisy couldn’t help a tiny twitch of the lips.
Lady Garrison laughed. “You sound like a romantic novel. Speaking of ruins, Daisy, have you read The Lady’s Revenge? It was published only a short while ago, and I received mine express yesterday. I stayed up all night reading it. It’s so exciting.”
Daisy smiled at that. “Yes, mine arrived a few days ago.”
“I loved the chase through the moonlit ruins,” Melinda said.
That had been a fun scene to write, too, about the same ruins and the recovery of the rose charm.
“And the ending was so romantic,” Melinda added. “Ah, but Mrs. Henderson does not approve.”
Evidently not, judging by her glower. A pity, for Daisy had had another two or three seconds’ enjoyment. “You do not approve of a happy ending, ma’am? What other sort should there be in a romantic novel?”
“It is not the ending to which I object,” Mrs. Henderson said, “but the process by which it is reached. The so-called heroines of such novels have no notion of proper behavior. Running off to sea, wearing men’s clothing, brandishing pistols and knives, and worst of all, they have . . .” She lowered her voice, glancing at Julian and away. “Inappropriate thoughts.”
A guilty blus
h crawled up her daughter’s cheeks.
“Romantic novels set a shameful example for young ladies,” Mrs. Henderson said. “The authors of such rubbish should be whipped at the cart’s tail.”
Daisy narrowed her eyes. “Perhaps it’s the mothers who should be whipped for not preparing their daughters to understand those inappropriate thoughts, and even to enjoy them.” She raised a brow at the daughter, who blushed even more.
Mrs. Henderson bridled. “Such indecent talk is unforgivable, and in the presence of a gentleman, even worse!”
“You needn’t worry about me,” Julian said with a grin. He at least was enjoying himself. “I know all about inappropriate thoughts and where they lead.”
Lady Garrison choked on a laugh. “Most young ladies enjoy these stories without taking them seriously. Very few would consider running away for a life of adventure. Not only that, the heroine of The Lady’s Revenge is well-behaved for a character who has such exciting experiences. She maintains her purity through thick and thin.”
“Only her thoughts are impure,” Daisy said. “I maintain that she is entitled to those, and the reason she doesn’t put them into action is because her mother brought her up to be well-informed rather than kept in prudish ignorance until her wedding day.”
“My mother was never a prude,” Lady Garrison said, “but unfortunately she was abroad when I needed her advice about such things. Still is, alas, and how I miss her. But I do run on, don’t I? Now, you must answer me, Daisy. How did you fall in love?”
Daisy sighed, but she was prepared now for Lady Garrison’s insistence. She cocked her head to one side. “I’m not sure whether I’m in love or merely content at the prospect of marriage.”
Lady Garrison pouted. “Oh! Sad stuff. You must do better than that. So far I prefer the story of a blinding vision in the ruins.”
“Content is perfectly fine,” Julian said. “Love will come later.”
“I can’t promise that,” Daisy said. “I do like you very much, Sir Julian.” This seemed to be the truth, but she didn’t let herself dwell on it. “After all, you’re handsome, well-respected, and—”
“Not too terribly odious,” Julian finished.
Lady Garrison laughed, and Miss Henderson let out a titter. Her mother was not amused.
“For a ruined woman,” Daisy said brightly, “I’m doing very well for myself.”
Miss Henderson gasped again and covered her face with her hands, but peered through the gaps between her fingers.
“Have you no shame?” her mother cried. “How dare you mention your scandalous past!”
“Why not?” Daisy retorted. “It’s what everyone’s thinking, isn’t it?”
Crimson patches bloomed on Mrs. Henderson’s cheeks. “Do you forget that you are in the company of a young, unmarried woman?”
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” Daisy said. “As I tried to make plain previously, young women should learn about such things before marriage, not afterwards when it’s too late.”
Daisy wondered if Mrs. Henderson would fall into an apoplectic fit. As for her silly daughter, still peeking through her fingers . . .
“Miss Henderson,” Daisy said, “this is probably the first and last time I shall be permitted to speak to you. I am trying very hard not to stick my tongue out at you, but if you continue to gape as if I were a freak in a cage at the fair, I shall have no choice.”
The poor girl’s eyes well-nigh popped out of her head.
“All I did was bed a smuggler,” Daisy said. “In appearance, I am no different from any other female who is no longer a virgin. You will learn nothing from staring at me.”
Miss Henderson whimpered, and her mother jumped up and dragged her daughter to her feet.
Lady Garrison moved smoothly into the breach. “Don’t be embarrassed, Miss Henderson. You should know by now that the Warren ladies are extremely forthright. It took me a while to become accustomed to Gloriana, and I see that Daisy will take some getting used to as well.”
Daisy felt a hot, miserable flush rise up her neck. She glanced at Sir Julian. His face was entirely expressionless. He must be furious.
They had arrived less than an hour ago, and already she’d ruined everything. They would have to leave. She would return to the Hollow and barricade herself in her bedchamber with loaded guns, knives, and plenty of paper and ink. She would never see Sir Julian again.
What a pity that would be, although she didn’t know why she cared. It was inevitable, whether now or a week or two hence.
“I have never in my life experienced such gross impropriety,” Mrs. Henderson declared. “Our thanks for your hospitality, Lady Garrison, but we, too, have no choice but to leave.”
Reams must have been eavesdropping outside the drawing room door, for he opened it immediately, ushered the visitors out, and sent a footman scurrying for their carriage.
As Lady Garrison closed the door again, they heard Reams suggesting that the ladies take a turn in the rose garden whilst waiting for the horses to be put to.
“My apologies, Lady Garrison,” Daisy said rigidly. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” She forced herself to raise her eyes. She’d never lacked courage before, but she dreaded the rejection of these two kindhearted people.
Sir Julian’s lips twitched. Melinda Garrison turned from the door and caught his eye. They broke into laughter.
After a few astonished seconds, Daisy burst into tears.
Julian’s amusement fled. “No, don’t cry, Daisy.” He pulled her into his arms. Great shuddering sobs racked her body. His heart twisted at her misery. He rocked her gently and caressed her hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daisy, love, please don’t cry.”
He cast an anguished glance at Melinda, who had also ceased laughing. “Don’t feel badly about it, Daisy. They’re stupid, narrow-minded people. I only put up with them because they’re our neighbors. Don’t let Gloriana upset you, either. Miles will have a talk with her, and all will be well.”
There was a soft tap at the door. Melinda opened it a little way.
“The baby’s awake, my lady,” a maid’s voice said.
“Very well, I’m just coming.” She turned. “Whenever you’re ready, Reams will show you to your bedchambers.”
She left. Daisy’s sobs slowed, and she pushed herself out of Julian’s arms, sniffling hard. He offered his handkerchief. She took it and blew her nose.
“I don’t know what came over me.” She paced back and forth before the sofa, glowering now. “I never weep.”
That’s my Daisy, he thought with relief. “I’ve seen you lose your temper before, and you certainly didn’t weep then. It must have been the apologizing that did it. Such a painful experience, that.”
She huffed. “I am perfectly capable of apologizing for my bad behavior without bursting into floods.” A tear trickled anew down her cheek, and her lip quivered.
“Then what?”
“It’s the k-kindness,” she said. “I’m not used to it.”
“No? I thought you got on well with your brother Colin and his wife.”
“Yes, but that’s different. I don’t force myself on them and make rude remarks to their guests. You and Lady Garrison seemed to understand. You didn’t scold or—or reject me, or . . .”
“I’ll never reject you, Daisy. I like you just as you are.”
This, he realized, was more or less true. He would rather she were less angry, but her forthrightness, after the stodgy propriety of his own relations, was a welcome relief.
And she’d felt magnificent in his arms.
“I wish I hadn’t wept,” she muttered. “It’s so humiliating.”
“I suspect it has to do with the death threat, and the uncertainty of your welcome here,” he said.
“Miles may still re
ject me,” she said almost hopefully, as if her low expectations would then be met and her tears therefore become more acceptable.
“Not likely,” Julian said.
“Lady Garrison said I would take some getting used to. Oh God, do you realize? She compared me to Gloriana!”
Julian laughed again. He couldn’t help it.
“I’ve never been so insulted . . .” She dropped onto the sofa and put her head in her hands. “Oh, how dreadful. Am I really like her?”
“You’re both very fierce,” Julian said. “Opinionated, but with quite different views. It should certainly make for some lively discussions.”
Daisy heaved a huge quivery sigh. At least only Sir Julian had remained while she blubbered. Lady Garrison had escaped immediately, and no blame to her.
“I must try my very hardest to control my temper,” she said, glumly admitting to herself that this was almost impossible. “Maybe Gloriana won’t come over while we’re here. She lives in the Dower House, so she can easily avoid me. If we leave before the house party, she won’t be so upset with me.”
“Do you care whether she’s upset?”
“No. Yes. No, I can’t afford to care, but she used to be my dearest friend. That was long ago, but . . .” Daisy controlled the treacherous tendency of her lips to wobble. She missed that friendship and always would.
“What was that gesture as she left, the evil eye?” His lip curled derisively.
“I don’t know,” Daisy said, feeling nonetheless that it did indeed mean something. Perhaps it was some remnant of childish play. “She was always given to dramatic gestures.”
He rolled his eyes. “Come, let’s see which rooms they’ve given us.”
Love and the Shameless Lady (Scandalous Kisses Book 3) Page 11
